He tensed, wings twitching, but I continued speaking, not wanting him to interrupt.
“I was angry. Really angry. I mean, I still am. About a lot of things. But, I guess I also want to say, ‘Thank you.’ You may have only given me the web to interrogate me and to make sure I understood all your commands, but even so...” I tapped my ear. “This is a gift. I’m grateful for it.”
Wylfrael looked surprised by my words. Then his face softened, which made me feel completely off-balance.
“You’ll be able to understand some animals, too.”
My eyes widened.
“Are you serious?”
What he’d said seemed impossible – a miracle. Something I’d fantasized about as a child, a half-forgotten dream. A dream that quickly faded when I realized, “Oh, but the sontanna? I didn’t hear anything...”
“Sontanna are notoriously quiet creatures,” Wylfrael replied. “They communicate more by scent, and body language, than sound, which makes the webbing largely useless. It doesn’t work for all animals, only those intelligent enough to communicate distinct ideas using complex sounds.”
I nodded eagerly.
“Yes! We have animals capable of that on Earth. Dolphins, whales.” I couldn’t stop a disbelieving laugh from escaping my parted lips. “I can’t believe I’d be able to understand a dolphin now! I mean, if I ever saw one again, anyway.”
“It’s not the same as the way you and I understand each other now. You won’t usually hear long sentences, and of course, they won’t understand anything you say. But it’s possible to pick up certain words.” His mouth pulled into a grimace. “Most often, those words revolve around food. Or are variations of, ‘Get away from my nest.’”
This made me laugh again, harder this time. And then I laughed even more, gasping and giddy, when I considered just how absurd this whole situation had become. Wylfrael, my alien captor, wanted to marry me, and was now telling me I’d be able to hear animals talking to me? That, coupled with the image of Wylfrael striding powerfully through his forest only to be told off by some territorial, squawking mama bird had me doubling over, tears forming.
“Why are you suddenly laughing so much?” Wylfrael asked suspiciously as I wiped my streaming eyes. “Keep your wits about you. I can’t go presenting a half-mad human as my wife.”
My wife.
The laughter died instantly. I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, knowing that what I was about to say would change everything.
“I accept this bargain. I’ll... I’ll marry you.” I placed my empty cup down on the floor, then stuck out my hand, ready for him to shake it like we’d just closed some sort of business deal.
Wylfrael reached forward and clasped my hand in his huge, warm one. Obviously, he didn’t know about shaking hands. Instead, he rose to his feet, pulling me along with him until we stood facing each other, our palms sealed together.
“Oh, my little human bride,” he murmured, his words sliding like cold satin down my spine as his eyes caught mine in a tunnel of blue fire. “You speak as if you ever had a choice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE Wylfrael
After escorting Torrance back to her chamber for the remainder of the night, I did not sleep. I paced the room, making plans. The first thing will be to tell the Sionnachans the glorious news, I thought with a grim smile. Their lord is engaged to be married.
As soon as dawn warmed the walls, I left the room, knowing Aiko and Shoshen would be awake. I headed for the kitchen, assuming they’d be there.
I was right. I heard Aiko’s trilling voice as I crossed the entry hall towards the kitchen.
“Where in the merciful snows of Sionnach have those knives gotten to?”
“I don’t know! I haven’t touched them.”
“Well, you’d best help me look, and quick!” I smiled at Aiko’s command of her younger brother. “How am I supposed to cut the lord’s bread without a knife?”
A note of anxiety entered her voice at that last part, which wiped away my smile. It bothered me that these young Sionnachans would be so worried about pleasing me, or not pleasing me. They didn’t know me well enough to realize that I cared little about things like whether my breakfast bread came pre-sliced.
I stiffened, wondering if, rather than not knowing me well enough, it was because they’d watched me with Torrance. Watched my anger towards her, the way I’d made her a prisoner when imprisonment was a concept almost completely foreign to them.
“Calm, Aiko,” I said, stepping into the warm, fragrant kitchen.
Shoshen and Aiko both spun at my voice, flattening their ears.
“Forgive me, my lord! I did not realize you were awake yet! Breakfast will be ready momentarily. I just need to find-”
“The knives?” I raised my hand, slowly bringing them down from the high shelf to the counter. “I apologize. I moved them last night and did not think to tell you. There was a... moment with the prisoner. I thought it better to move anything sharp out of her reach.”
Aiko’s green eyes went wide as stone saucers.
“You think she would have used them, my lord?” Aiko gasped. “On a person? I must admit, she’s been nothing but good to us, despite the circumstances. I brought her dinner last night and could understand her for the first time; she thanked me, and spoke kind words to me.”
I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to caution Aiko, to tell her not to believe Torrance too much, that it was likely a show to gain their trust for some nefarious purpose. But I’d have to push down that sort of thinking now. I needed to prove to everyone that I loved Torrance, that I trusted her implicitly. That probably starts with the knives, I thought, eyeing them on the counter. If Torrance was to be my wife, I couldn’t hide kitchen objects from her like she was a child.
I thought of her face when I’d suggested she might hurt a Sionnachan. There had been instant shock and horror at my words, the kind not easily faked. No! she’d said. I’d never hurt Aiko and Shoshen! I thought also of her shining, gentle joy at being with the sontanna, and her hopeful excitement about being able to understand animals. It seemed there was maybe some true goodness in her after all.
I rather wish there wasn’t.
But at the very least, I did now think it was unlikely she’d hurt one of the Sionnachans. Her goodness aside, she seemed clever and at least somewhat reasonable. Now that she’d accepted our bargain, and her friends and freedom were at stake, she wouldn’t ruin it with something that wouldn’t help her situation, like using a knife on someone.
The knives stay there, then.
A new anxiety seemed to have entered the Sionnachans. I watched them closely as their gazes went from the knives to me and back again, their tails bushy with nervous energy.
“What is it?” I asked them.
“Well, my lord,” Aiko began uncertainly, her ears flattening, “I cannot imagine you were happy about Torrance – the prisoner – getting out and trying to use a knife for something. Is she... is she... still here?”